


It's the final countdown

by olivebranchesandredwine (DocOlive)



Series: Heaven Can Wait, But Patrick Can't [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Canon Queer Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Patrick Brewer is Thirsty, Patrick is a horny troll, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 15:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocOlive/pseuds/olivebranchesandredwine
Summary: T-minus 7 days until the wedding. David wants to abstain until their wedding night. Patrick is a troll.





	It's the final countdown

**Author's Note:**

> I love everyone in this bar. Title from the [song](https://youtu.be/9jK-NcRmVcw). Play it in your head while Patrick’s doing his thing, y’all. You’re welcome.

“So when you say you want to abstain,” Patrick started, “could you lay out the specifics for me? I just…want to make sure I’m 100% clear on the rules.” Like they hadn’t had this conversation before, multiple times, in the last month. Like Patrick didn’t have a fucking _spreadsheet _of which specific sex acts he’d made David clarify. For research, of course. Patrick was very thorough in his research. And when they’d been in the theoretical part of his plan, David had enjoyed the fuck out of that thoroughness.

But that was then, when the romance of premarital abstinence had been very much in the abstract, and now, Patrick was using his serious business voice, the one he used when he was talking about inventory and quarterly projections and estimated taxes and grant applications, and David had to admit that it still _did something _for him. David’s shoulders started to tense when he felt that familiar tingle at the base of his spine, so he bit the inside of his lower lip, took a deep breath, and hoped like hell that Patrick didn’t notice how much tighter his pants just got. Thank god he wasn’t looking, David thought as he glanced toward Patrick, misting the produce, and let his eyes linger on how his ass filled out those Levi’s. He wanted to bite it.

At least they were in the store.

David leaned on the counter and tried to adjust himself, discreetly, behind the cash. He massaged the space above his eyebrows with his free hand. “We’ve gone over this a thousand times. No getting each other off until we’re married.” _Think of wearing Dockers, _David’s mind raced to find something to distract him from the memory of Patrick’s sex spreadsheet. _The diaper game._ _Roland eating a chili dog._

Patrick sauntered over and set the mister bottle down by the cash. He leaned across the counter and nuzzled his nose against David’s, eyes twinkling, the corners of his mouth curling up into the barest hint of a smile. “Mmm-hmmm, I remember now,” he teased before settling a chaste kiss against David’s lips. Just a gentle, delicate press of lips, but he let it linger, his lips resting against his fiancé’s, allowing their breathing to sync, sending shivers up and down David’s spine until he was the one to break their gaze. 

Patrick chuckled as David suddenly busied himself with replacing the paper in the receipt printer and refused to make eye contact. _Smug motherfucker. _At least Patrick had been firm in the No Sex at Work rule since he moved out of Ray’s place. That gave David a little chance to compose himself, to gather his wits and let his dick settle down. He was determined to do this, dammit.

7 days.

In just seven days, they’d be standing in front of everyone they loved, proclaiming their commitment to each other. Sharing their love and hope and joy with everyone in this town with such a silly name that, over these last few years, had become David’s only real home. Because of the kind, compassionate, handsome, wonderful, infuriating man currently determined to make David break. 

That’s all. 7 days. 

_I can do this_.

—

Dinner with his parents had been more of an ordeal than usual, thanks to Moira’s histrionics about Alexis’ return the next day, so David was ready to collapse when he let himself into the apartment. “I’m home, sweet—”

_Holy mother of fuck._

Patrick Brewer was going to be the death of him.

David stood, frozen, just inside the door, mouth gaping. He let his bag fall to the floor with a thud and just took it all in. 

There, on their bed, was his button-down fiancé.

His naked fiancé.

His _very_ naked fiancé, panting and writhing and grunting as he rutted against the mattress. Hips thrusting in such a furious rhythm that the bed was squeaking, one hand buried beneath him while the other held on to a sparkly purple dildo. _When the fuck did we get that? _David’s mind, racing through about a thousand thoughts in a matter of seconds, paused to linger on the _wildly_ incorrect dildo currently pumping into Patrick’s ass. He was jarred back into the scorching reality of the moment, however, by a whimper from their bed. Patrick was completely oblivious to David’s arrival, wrapped up in his own pleasure, and the sounds he was making were deliciously pornographic. He shifted his position on the bed and loosed a guttural cry, “Oh _fuck. _Oh, Daaaa-vid” that made David’s heart jump and his dick strain against his zipper. This beautiful man was getting himself off to _him_, and it was the sexiest, sweetest thing David could ever imagine.

He swallowed, hard, still frozen in place by the door. It would be so easy to close the distance. Patrick was _right there_. In that moment, David wanted nothing more than to bury his face Patrick’s ass, to mouth his balls, trace a sloppy, wet line along his taint, lick into his open hole. _Oh god_, he wanted to slide his dick into that ass, feel that wet, tight heat envelop him, fuck him so hard his balls slapped against Patrick’s. _Fuck, _David realized he was leaking through his pants.

_Mariah, give me strength. _It’s only seven days. I can last seven days.

David scrunched his entire face as he squeezed his eyes shut. Patrick was close; he knew those moans, those muffled obscenities intimately. He wanted to see Patrick finish himself off; he wanted to clean him up with his mouth and then cuddle up with the blissfully gooey, post-coital Patrick that he absolutely adored beyond belief. It would be so easy to close that distance.

_No. _This is going to be _romantic_, dammit_. _I’m not going to break on the _first day. _He slowly bent down to pick up his bag. Because he didn’t want to alert Patrick to his presence with any sudden movement, or maybe because he was secretly hoping he’d be able to delay leaving long enough to watch him come, David couldn’t have said which he wanted more, to be honest. He backed out into the hallway and gently closed the door. As he reached for his phone, David let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Stevie  
  
**ME [8:39 PM]**can I come over? need to relax 🌿 💨  
**ME [8:39 PM]**btw i'm on my way  
** STEVIE [8:41PM] **guess it doesn’t matter if I say no then 🤷🏻 **ME [8:41 PM]**nope. see you in a few  


Patrick  
  
**ME [9:01 PM]**Gonna hang with Stevie tonite  
**ME [9:01 PM]**enjoy yourself, sweetie 😉  
**PATRICK [9:02 PM] **??? have fun w/ Stevie  **ME [9:03 PM]**🍆🍑  
**ME [9:03 PM]** 💦   
**ME [9:04 PM]**PS - I win this round. 6 more days.   


**Author's Note:**

> Why a sparkly purple dildo, you didn't ask? Because that color was on sale, but the basic blue one wasn't, and Patrick Brewer is a Responsible Shopper.


End file.
